Ghostie Love

I am the lonely ghost who pines and aches from afar. Too meek and shy to glide across the dance floor, I hover in the corner instead. "Dream big little ghost" I tell myself over and over and over again.

While staring into nothingness next to the punch bowl, the banshee (I've had my eye on) filled his paper cup with spiked punch. I glanced up. Our eyes met for just a second and my (dead) heart skipped a beat. I thought, "He's going to ask me to dance."

As the anguish in my chest began to fade, he took a step closer. His tightly closed lips started to part and he spoke, "Do you know what time it is?"

I glared at his face with blazing fury. The words traveled up my throat, trapped in my mouth. "It doesn't matter anymore." Confused, his lips parted again. Only a short gasp escaped. Silence.

He looked back down at the floor and knew. The moment was gone and the damage was done.

We both stood for another instant (it felt like an eternity). I turned away from the object of my affection and took a small step. "I'm sorry" he whispered.

Defeated I softly sighed, "I know"